Baby, You Can Drive My Car
by GluttonousAnorexiaNervosa
Summary: Just your typical day in the minimum wage life, until an extraordinary vehicle rolls in... and nobody even says the words "Chitty Chitty Bang Bang" either! Amazing how they missed the opportunity.


**Author's Note:** Don't be silly, I don't own Doctor Who. I don't even own a car! Well, I do have a truck, but lets not get into that. My dad bought it for me. I rue the day he saddled me with that Ford Ranger. Anyway… Just a silly one-shot thing I thought of as I was cleaning my mom's car... enjoy.

She sighed as she looked at the filthy car in front of her.

"I haven't had it detailed in, oh I don't know how many years!" The old woman tittered beside her.

"Don't worry ma'am, I will get your car cleaned up spic and span, since that is the only way a Whammy Clean worker can." She droned, saying the same annoying thing that she had to for every costumer. The old woman popped a hard candy into her mouth and wandered off in the direction of Walmart, muttering to herself as she tried to remember the last time that the inside of her Lincoln Town Car had been cleaned.

She pushed her glasses up her forehead as she rubbed her eyes, wondering how she ever got to this place. Then, with resignation, she unlocked the car and opened the passenger door, to have a cascade of old newspapers and candy wrappers flood out onto her worn sneakers. She bit back a scream and grabbed a trash bag.

Two hours later she was polishing the steering wheel, the car looking brilliant and smelling of grapefruit. She looked up out of the windshield and saw the old woman tottering back towards the car, and sighed with satisfaction that this job was finally done.

"Wow, young lady, this looks amazing!" the grandmotherly woman exclaimed. "You are so good! Now, give me my keys and my newspapers, I am in a hurry. I've got water aerobics with the girls, and I am almost late!"

The worker blanched. "Uhm, ma'am, I am sorry, I did not know you wanted to keep the newspapers."

The woman laughed. "Of course I did, child! I need them, Moochy can't get to the liter box in time anymore and I have to put down papers everywhere for him. Poor boy. But it is no worry; you still have them handy, right?"

She started to sweat, and pulled at the collar of her polo. "Well, ma'am, I am sorry but I threw them away already. Again, I did not know, but I can replace them, I am sure there are newspapers in the office."

The old woman pursed her lips, clutched her purse, and got into the car. "Well I never!" she muttered, and drove off quickly for the office to pay her bill and complain to the manager. The young woman rubbed a dirty hand across her forehead distractedly, stopping suddenly when she realised. She scowled and walked back to the office and for her next appointment. She heard the screeching of tires behind her and without thinking she dove sideways into a pile of tires.

"Woah, Jordan!" the driver yelled out of the window of the Volkswagen Jetta he was driving. "Now what was that for?" he yelled as he threw it in park a few feet away from her. She jumped to her feet, dusted herself off, and went over to her coworker and sometimes friend.

"Speak for yourself, Derek, you jerk! What are you doing, speeding up behind me in that thing, anyway! You will get yourself fired!"

"I could never be in as much trouble as you will be, once that old quack tells the boss about how you tossed her newspapers in the trash." She reached into the window to smack him but he dodged. "Now now, come on, play nice, I have something to show you that will rock your minimum wage existence. Hop in!" She looked dubious, but decided that at least she would get a ride back to the building, and so she ran around and got into the passenger seat. He sped off to the back garage.

"So what is it?" she asked, fiddling with the volume knob on the radio and dusting the dash half-mindedly.

"It is a surprise! Well, you know that show on television, where those rich guys with all the time in the world go out and find people their first car and fix it up and give it to them all shiny and new?"

"Uhm… no… I have not."

"Oh, well, it is this show on television, where these rich guys who have nothing better to do with their time go out and find people their first car and fix them up for them."

"Yes, Derek, I guessed that."

He scrunched up his face and grinned. "Anyway, here we are." He jumped out of the car and went to the door in the garage. She nimbly climbed out the car and followed him. He stood by the door. "Prepare to have your mind blown!" he said, and opened the door dramatically, ushering her inside.

Inside it was dark, but she was able to make out in the gloom a definite car shape. Behind her Derek flicked on the lights, causing her to gasp at the vehicle in front of her.

"Behold! It is a… thing. But a pretty thing!" he announced proudly.

"She threw a dustrag at him. "It is a roadster, you idiot. Edwardian. And it is beautiful."

"Well, whatever, I figured you would like it, it being all nerdy like you."

"What is it doing here?" she asked as she walked around it slowly.

"Well, see, that show I was telling you about, they found it at an auction, and apparently one of his friends from way back when noticed it, and decided to fix it up for him and give it to him as a surprise. Or something." He bit his lip, thinking. "Something like that, anyway." He pushed his long hair out of his eyes.

"So why is it here, exactly?" she asked, standing beside him after circling it.

"Well, see, somebody decided to repaint it, so we get to rerepaint it to its original color, and make it all nice inside again."

"That would be a fortune!"

Derek looked at her, his hands on his hips. "This guy is apparently that important. Do you remember when all those weird planets showed up in the sky? He apparently had something to do with that. Apparently."

She gasped. "Really? Did he do it himself?"

"No, no, I meant, I guess he moved them away. Like, I heard it was like that newest Superman movie, when he pulled that island out of the ocean and threw it out into space. I guess he did that."

She looked skeptical. "I think you are confused. Stop hitting the bong so early in the morning, friend."

"Hey, it is the truth! I knew a guy who saw him do it. His cousin was like, this dude's girlfriend or something. Or something. I forget." She turned her back on him. "But it is true! I know it is!"

"Whatever, Derek, whatever." She called over her shoulder as she went out the door and turned toward the office.

She stood at the front desk, looking over her schedule for the day, when the bell at the front door jingled. Without looking up, she intoned "Don't worry, I will get your car cleaned up spic and span, since that is the only way a Whammy Clean worker can. May I help you?"

"Uhm… yes, I think so. I was told my Bessie is ready for me to pick up," a man with a British accent responded.

"Hold on sir." She looked at the computer. "Do you Are you John Smith, sir?"

"Yes, that is me. I hope it is ready then? It is my first car and I am eager to get out on the open road again." She glanced up at him, then back at her screen. After a second a confused look crossed her face, and she looked back at him.

"It was your first car?" she asked incredulously, examining the mid thirties man in front of her.

"Well, sort of. I mean, my first car isn't so much a car as a…" he trailed off, holding his hands out in front of him, making a square shape with them. After a second he shrugged and dropped his hands into his pockets. "Anyway, is it ready?"

"Yes sir, I will have someone bring it around front for you." She grabbed a phone and hit a button. "Derek, please bring vehicle number 23-8-15 to the front drive, Derek, vehicle 23-8-15. Thank you." She hung up the receiver and came around to the front of the desk. "He should be here in a moment, Mr. Smith."

"Oh, thanks. You guys are so efficient."

She smiled, an almost genuine gesture. "Thank you sir. We try to be."

He stuck his hands in his coat pockets. "So… what is your name, then?"

She held up her nametag and read it. "I guess it is Jordan, sir. Or at least, that is what this says." She chuckled. "I guess it could be lying."

He smiled. "Well, it was good to meet you Jordan. Did you do the work on my car?"

She shook her head. "No, sorry, I did not."

He sighed. "Well, that is a shame, really." He bounced on the balls of his feet. "Mind you, I have not seen it in ages. But somebody told me that they found it and I thought, why not?" he grinned, a wide happy smile. She had the feeling that it was not seen very often, the lines around his eyes said as much.

She was not certain if she should ask, but she couldn't resist much longer. "Mr. Smith, can I ask you something?"

He cocked his head to the side. "Sure, go ahead."

"Well, see," she started, suddenly unsure. "Derek, my friend, he said something… about something… it isn't important." She bent to straighten the magazines.

"Go ahead and ask, I won't mind." He insisted.

She put down the outdated Field and Stream and sighed. "Okay. He says that you… "she giggled despite herself, "he says that you moved those planets in the sky singlehandedly. How crazy is that?"

"Well, that is pretty crazy," he agreed, and fidgeted with something in his pocket. "Tell me, where did he hear this from?"

She tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. "Well, he says he knows someone who is related to someone who was there. I guess." She shrugged.

He sighed. "That is quite an incredible story, that."

"Yeah, I know." She straightened her shoulders. "I will get the spare set of keys for your car." She reached for them on the hook, but they slipped off and hit the floor.

He pursed his lips. "Very incredible." She ducked down and picked up the key ring with the rabbit foot keychain. "Well, I wouldn't say it was single handed, though." He said in the same airy tone. She froze, her fingers clamped around the animal's severed limb. "I had help."

She straightened up. "Of..of course you did, sir."

A petulant horn honking outside broke the silence.

He clapped his hands in glee. "Oh, look! That is certainly Bessie! And look at her, she looks as good as she did twenty years ago! May I have those?" she snapped out of her stupor to see him with his hand stretched out.

"Uh, of course. Come again soon." She managed in a disconnected voice.

"I certainly will. Good afternoon, Jordan!" he bounced out of the door to the waiting Derek. "Thank you!" she heard him say before the door shut, shaking the teenagers hand. Then he climbed behind the wheel and drove off.


End file.
